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All I Want
Part 4 of 4
Synopsis:  Daniel gets down-sized, Jack takes him in.  But when Jack insists the adoption be as "normal" as possible, they're both in for a few surprises!  Response for holiday 'fic challenge on the DJsSG-1Lverse list.

Chapter 22

The first sensation was of darkness.  The second was of cold.  The third was a rock digging a very uncomfortable spot into her right hip.

Sara sat up with a gasp, one hand going to her sore hip, the other to the lump on her temple.  Funny, she could have sworn she'd been shot, so why did it feel like only a bruise?  For that matter, why did it feel at all?  In her own terrible experience with gunshot wounds to the head, the victim usually died.

Sure enough, it was still just a bruise.  Maybe the gun had been loaded with rubber bullets... in which case Goon and Solemn should be waking up any time now, too.  One glance at their shadowed forms disproved that theory, though.  Too much darkness stained the snow beneath them for their wounds to not be fatal.  Had Shorty's friend been playing some sort of sick game of Russian Roulette, then?  Jack would probably say—

"Jack!" she shouted, fumbling in her pocket for her cell phone.  "Oh, Jack, please, are you there?"

"Sara!" came the excited reply.  "Jeez, Sara, I heard gunshots... what happened?"

"I-I d-don't know," she stammered, shivering with shock and cold.  "We stopped and the main k-kidnapper talked to this guy who s-seemed to know a lot about D-Daniel and his dad, but then the new guy's friend pulled a gun and shot the other two kidnappers.  When he pointed the gun at m-me, I heard Daniel scream and then that was it.  Jack, I thought I'd been sh-shot."

"We're almost there, Sara, hang with me for a sec.  Is Daniel there, too?"

"N-no... I don't see him."

"Do you still see the van?"

"Y-yeah.  The other car's gone."

"What kind of car was it?  This is very important."

"Ford," she answered.  "B-big dark-colored SUV."  There was a brief moment while Jack relayed this to someone else and received a muffled acknowledgement.  "Sara, do you hear the helicopter?"

"Yes."

"Good.  I'm only a minute away from you, Sara.  Are you near the road?  Can you walk closer to it for me?"

"C-cold, Jack.  Wearing socks."

"Crap.  I forgot.  Sit tight... the helicopter should be right overhead."

It was.  A split second later she was being buffeted by a downdraft from the rudders as a brilliant spotlight lit up the area.  In the eerie, washed-out illumination, she spotted a strangely shaped object beside her, but had to grab for it twice due to her doubled vision.  Just then, snow crunched beneath tires, and she had to quell a surge of panic, thinking the kidnappers were coming back to finish the job.

"Sara!"  Jack yelled, but this time it wasn't over the phone.  Looking up, she saw him jump out of the passenger side of the Durango, while other doors swung open on the two Suburbans flanking it.  He was suddenly at her side, kneeling in the snow and cupping her face with a warm hand.  "Talk to me, Sara... you all right?"

"Concussion," she replied, finding single-word answers far easier to manage.  He nodded, bringing his radio to his mouth and ordering someone to call for medics.  "I don't want to wait for medics, Jack," she protested.  "Daniel—"

"O'Neill!  The tire tracks turned to the east."

"Not heading for the interstate, thank God."  He grabbed his radio again.  "Carter, head east and keep an eye-out.  As soon as you have a chance to block them off, go for it."

"Yes, sir!" the female officer acknowledged.

"These two have had it," one of the other men reported, having checked on Solemn and Goon.

Too bad she wasn't going to get to use her pepper spray on his smug grin, Sara lamented inwardly.

"Meyer, Henson, stay with the bodies and don't let anyone get too close to 'em, if you know what I mean.  Teal'c, help me get Sara into the truck.  How many in the Ford, Sara?"

"Three, or maybe four.  I don't see Scowl's body, and there could have been another driver."  She gasped as the big black man Jack had called "Teelk" easily lifted her, causing her head to swim.  That must have been the foreign name Jack said Murray had, but she didn't think it was terribly difficult to pronounce.

"Did they just start shooting or did they say anything?" Jack was questioning, following his large companion to the car as Sara was carried toward it.

Her head was foggier than normal, but her ability to remember conversations was still intact.  "He—Shorty, I mean—did a lot of dressing down on Scowl, telling him off for grabbing Daniel and I before they had all the information they needed... especially since Daniel isn't your natural-born son like they thought.  There was some concern he wouldn't have the, uh... 'necessary genetics' for—"

Jack swore.  "Whoa, genetics?"

"Yes," she replied, arranging herself more comfortably in the back seat as Jack drew the seatbelt across her shoulder and lap.  She took the end from him and clicked it into place.  "They thought they could still use him against you, though, since he's your friend's son."

"No, he's not," Jack answered.

"Doctor Jackson wasn't your friend?" she asked, confused.

"No, I'm saying he's not my friend's son.  Sara, what I'm about to tell you is classified, but in this case I'll say it's better to ask forgiveness than permission."

"A cliché, Jack?"

"Yeah, Sara... it's important enough I'm using clichés," came the amused reply.  "Listen, Daniel is the original Daniel.  Okay, not exactly that either, but... uh, inside that cute little five year-old body is the mind of a thirty-nine year-old genius with three doctorates and eight years of combat experience."

Sara blinked, watching as Jack slid into the front seat and the Durango started off again.  Wow, the concussion must be worse than she thought, given what she thought she heard Jack say.  "Daniel's not a kid?"

"Daniel's a kid in body and emotion, just not in brains.  We had an accident with an alien healing machine that ended up down-sizing him."

"Alien?"

"It's a long story, Sara, and I promise to tell you everything.  Suffice to say, I now have an inkling why they were anxious to get their hands on my kid: I have a genetic marker which allows me to use certain types of advanced alien technology."

She gaped.  "What?"

Jack's silhouetted head nodded.  "Yeah... leave it to the Trust to try force a kid into powering up their toys.  I hope they don't... What's that in your hand?"

Glancing down, Sara uncurled her fingers.  "I think it's the bullet that shot me."

Twisting in his seat, Jack plucked the cold metal from her hand and examined it closely.  "Thank God for telekinetic archaeologists."

"Telekinetic?" she repeated, beginning to feel a bit like a parrot.  Maybe she could blame all the weird things she'd been hearing on the blow to her head.

"Yeah.  I hope the Trust hasn't figured out about Daniel's psychic powers or he'll be in even bigger trouble than he is already... unless Carter finds 'em first.  Did they say where they were going?"

"No, but I guess they work for somebody English.  Shorty mentioned a 'Lord Ball' and—"

Jack blistered the air with a colorful expletive.

Chapter 23

*      *      *

They hit a bump in the road and Daniel was jostled awake.  He sat up with a gasp, the sound of gunfire still echoing in his ears.  Homer's friend had pulled a gun, shooting Smirk before the incompetent fool could figure out which end of his own firearm was the business end.  Skirk went down just as quickly, gawking as he was at the demise of his formerly grinning pal.  Then the barrel turned on Sara and... that was the last he remembered.

Heart pounding in fear, he looked around for Jack's ex-wife, only to find himself staring past thin metal bars at Smiley's leering face.  The Trust operative laughed coldly at the confusion evident on Daniel's face when he reached out to trace the walls of his prison.

"Like your kennel, pup?" he sneered, one arm casually propped up on the back of the seat as he looked over his shoulder.  "I hope you're comfortable... you'll be in there a long time."

"It could use a pillow and a couple of curtains," Daniel answered flippantly, channeling Jack.  "Where's Sara?"

"Decorating the lovely white snow with the contents of that pretty little head of hers," the kidnapper answered, laughing at Daniel's involuntary recoil.

"Knock it off," warned the voice of Homer, who must have been in the front seat of the truck, though Daniel couldn't see him from his cramped quarters.  "Or do you want the boy to start screaming again?"

Daniel didn't remember screaming, though his throat sure felt like he had been.  He wasn't about to believe anything Smiley said, though.  "What do you want with me?"

"First, we're going to see if your blood has what we need in it.  Then if it doesn't, we're going to hold you captive until your precious General O'Neill comes to rescue you.  Since we know his blood has what we need, we'll just keep the both of you, and let you do the job of persuading O'Neill to cooperate."

"Jack's after you now," Daniel promised.  "And when he catches—"

"O'Neill doesn't know where you are," Smiley interrupted, "and is little lady friend won't be talking when he finally finds her.  You've caused me a lot of trouble, boy, almost as much as your father."

Daniel stilled.  "My father?"

"The late and lamented Doctor Jackson," the kidnapper snapped.  "Don't play games with me, boy, I'm—"

"Look out!" Homer yelled, just as the road immediately in front of them turned a bright white.

The truck swerved sharply, sliding sideways on the wet pavement.  Daniel's cage was secured to the floor of the cargo area, and he was thrown against the bars.  He tasted blood on his lip where his face had impacted, and his right cheek was throbbing.  He seemed to have a pretty good headache, too; his pulse was throbbing in his ears with a steady tempo.

"Get back on the road!  Get us turned around!" Homer was yelling, and Daniel realized the noise he was hearing was the beat of a helicopter's rotors.

"How did they find us?" Smiley demanded, turning around again to glare at Daniel.  "What did you do, boy?"

"We're stuck!" the driver yelped, barely audible over the noise of the spinning tires and the hovering helicopter.

"Get out of the truck!" Homer ordered.  "Grab the boy; they won't shoot if they think they'll hit him."

"There are houses only a mile or so down the road," the driver confirmed, pointing out at the darkened shapes of trees looming against the mostly-flat land.  "We'll get another car if we can get to the woods over there... some of the houses are right up against it."

"Move it!"

Smiley slid over the backseat, fumbling in his pocket before pulling out a set of keys and inserting one into the padlock securing the kennel door.  Although Daniel did his best to shrink against the back wall of the cage and wrap his fingers around the bars, his skinny five year-old body was no match for a grown man's strength, especially when backed with the physical enhancement of a Goa'uld symbiote.

Come to think of it, his muscular thirty-nine year-old body hadn't done well against a Goa'uld's strength either.

He tried kicking and struggling for all he was worth, putting all his energy into trying to claw, bite, or wriggle his way free and make it to the safe haven the helicopter presented.  Smiley just gripped him all the harder, seemingly immune to the scratches Daniel was making on his arms in his frantic efforts to get free.  With his right arm, he popped the rear hatch on the truck, drew his pistol, and stepped down on the pavement, muzzle pressed against Daniel's temple.

"Fight me some more, boy, and I'll make you regret it," he warned.

"Shoot me and you lose your hostage," Daniel spat back, wishing he could unpin his arms and grab for the gun.  He kicked Smiley's shin with all the strength he could muster, but the man—Goa'uld, rather—ignored the hit.  Homer, the driver, and he were attempting a careful dance, trying to keep Daniel between them and the helicopter at all times while they edged around the ditch-bound truck.

There was more light, six brilliant beams coming from the road in the opposite direction of the hovering aircraft, and Daniel cheered inwardly to see them.  His team had arrived!

"Put the boy down!" yelled the welcome and familiar voice of Jack.  "Just let him go and you won't get hurt!"

Although trapped between the two rescuing forces, the kidnappers continued to move across the road, Daniel being swung back and forth in Smiley's grip as he tried to keep himself covered with his five year-old human shield.  A shot rang out, and muffled thud from behind signaled at least one of Daniel's captors was down, and the smaller but no-less-determined archaeologist began his struggle anew, even though he knew he was weakening rapidly.

The gun shifted from his head, and suddenly his right side was on fire.  "Try that again, O'Neill, and the boy loses the other leg!" Smiley screamed.

Through the haze of agony, Daniel was aware that Smiley was almost in the forest, and that he'd be a lot harder to catch if he made it into the shadows of the densely-packed trees.  He also didn't doubt the Goa'uld's promise to cripple him further if anyone attempted to take down his other companion, as he had done far greater damage to Daniel once already.

He stiffened, shocked at the familiarity he now sensed in the symbiote inhabiting the man's body.  Suddenly, he was assaulted with flashes of memory: metal walls, a lighted control panel, a stone slab covered in markings, a slender box opened to reveal a syringe, a surprised face—his own face—as the Goa'uld struck him again and again...

"Jatham," Daniel whispered, and the world faded to white.

Chapter 24

Fingers tightened on Jack's shoulder, startling him out of his stupor.  "Hey," he greeted, glancing up to see who it was.  "Are you supposed to be up?"

Sara grabbed another of the infirmary chairs and pulled it up beside his.  "Not up anymore," she pointed out as soon she was seated.  "The rest of the team finally leave?"

"Yeah.  Doc Lam scared 'em off—" he glanced at the wall clock "—about an hour ago."

She nodded, biting her lower lip.  "Any change?"

Jack looked down at the tiny limp hand cradled carefully in his own.  "Nope.  Doc said she was working to get a pediatric orthopedist the clearance to come here and work on his leg."  His jaw clenched so tightly his teeth creaked.  "He can't be moved to a regular hospital in his condition, but he's going to lose that leg if we don't—"

Sara scooted closer and wrapped her arms around Jack, eyes moist with tears.  "He hasn't woken up, either?"

"No."  He met her gaze briefly before letting his own eyes return to Daniel's pale, still face.  "He was like this when we first got him back from Maidiera," he began after a long moment of silence.

"The planet where he was... killed?" Sara guessed.

"And 'littled', yeah.  Whatever that machine did to him to make him a kid, it completely drained him.  Burned him up.  Doc said that's why he's such a skinny little guy, the machine somehow sped up his metabolism or something while it was doing its thing.  He lay like this for a whole day, Sara... so quiet and still.  Not at all like Daniel."

"He's normally very... active?"

Jack nodded.  "You know how I get when I'm bored... I grab whatever objects are nearest and start playing with 'em.  Daniel's the same way, only he does it with words and gestures.  He can rattle on for hours about the significance of river gods and annual flooding and spring fertility rites and what-not, and that keeps him occupied.  I've seen him this still only a few times, Sara... all of 'em were bad."

"He's going to be okay," she reassured him, taking his left hand in her own and placing her right atop his and Daniel's.  "Even if... even if they can't save his leg, he'll still have us, Jack."

Jack looked at all the monitors and tubes and wires and had trouble believing it.  "I want to believe that Sara, I do... if anybody can survive, it's Daniel.  What I'm worried about is up here," he answered, releasing Daniel's hand and carding his fingers through the soft blond hair.  "Every time he used his abilities, it wore him out.  Remembering one of his deaths left him asleep for half a day.  This was... bad."

"Bad" only began to describe it.  When the SGC's rescue team arrived at the kidnappers' truck, a scene from one of Jack's worst nightmares greeted him: Daniel, struggling to free himself from the grip of the maniac holding a gun to the boy's head.  Jack yelled a warning for the three men to surrender, tightening his grip on his own handgun and hoping he wouldn't have to use it.

But the kidnappers continued moving toward the edge of the road and the safety of the woods.  He warned the rest of the rescue team not to let any of the men leave the road, so when the farthest man out stepped into the ditch, a single shot rang out from the vicinity of the now-landed Blackhawk, and he would bet it was Carter.  The target spun gracelessly, falling to the ground.

Suddenly, the man holding Daniel moved his arm, and another shot rang out, the boy's body jerking.  Jack screamed soundlessly as the shooter shifted the pistol to point at Daniel's other leg, warning that he'd destroy it too if anyone fired again.  Before Jack could restart his brain enough to issue any orders, all hell broke loose.

A fierce wind began to blow, whipping across the road with staggering force.  Twigs and branches began snapping off the trees, caught up in the swirling maelstrom forming just over the shooter's head.  The man then dropped Daniel, but the boy's body did not fall: he hung suspended in the air like a marionette with invisible strings.  The tree limbs then descended upon the kidnapper like an angry swarm of bees, slicing ribbons of flesh.  In seconds, the man was covered in red, yelling and futilely trying to protect his head and face with his arms.

For a moment, Jack stood in stunned silence and watched Daniel's pain tear the Goa'uld to pieces.  Then, realizing Daniel would hate himself if he killed someone this way, Jack raised his weapon and snapped off a single shot, hearing Teal'c's own weapon report a split-second later.  The man jerked twice and fell to the ground; so did Daniel.  Heedless of the sticks raining down around his head, Jack raced across the pavement, stumbling and going to his knees beside the small body.

"Jatham," Daniel whispered, closing his eyes.  Then he went limp, lying broken and bloody on the ground just like—

"General O'Neill?"

Jack jumped, unaware he and Sara had fallen asleep with their heads resting on Daniel's bed, or that their hands still lay entwined with the boy's.  "What?" he mumbled, reluctant to rub the sleep out of his eyes to properly look at the airman, as that would mean disentangling his fingers from those of the two most important people in his life.

"The Nox are here, sir."

Chapter 25

"It was of his own choosing."

"What?!" Jack demanded, not quite believing his ears.

Serene and patient as ever, the Nox woman Lya started again.  "The abilities which Young Daniel exhibited were the result of changes made to his mind when he descended this most recent time.  Because he felt he had endangered the galaxy when the Replicator probed his mind, he sought to find a way to prevent such a violation from occurring again."

"He shielded his mind, I got that part," Jack replied.  "It's the part where that has anything to do with his bizarre powers that escapes me."

"It is our belief," began Thor, "that the device attempted to regress his mind when it transformed his body.  The protections he had placed on himself reacted poorly to the change."

"I'll say."

Lya's eyes narrowed slightly in that quiet, assessing way of hers.  "I do not believe the intended function of the machine was to reduce the age of its user, and that perhaps such a malfunction was the reason the experiment was discontinued."

"I concur," added the Asgard.  "The abrupt cessation of the log supports this."

"They screwed up and didn't report it," Carter guessed.  "Took out a few parts, declared the machine broken, and went on to other things."

"That is very likely," Thor agreed.

"Whatever the intended function," Lya continued, canting her head to one side, "Daniel's mind reacted to the drastic change in physical capability by boosting his mental gifts to levels not achievable by normal humans.  The original protections on his mind were established as passive defenses only, so the new abilities were also set to trigger defensively."

"Anytime he had a bad dream or unpleasant memory," Carter observed.

"Or when one to whom he was close was in jeopardy," Teal'c amended, "as when he saved Sara O'Neill from being seriously harmed."

"That is also correct," the Nox smiled.  "It wasn't a perfect compromise, as it also allowed some... latent ability to surface when he was most relaxed.  No Tau'ri at your current state of evolution is meant to have such powers, though, and use of these abilities was a great strain on his mind and body."

"But you've fixed that now, right?" Jack asked.  "But that still doesn't explain... this!"

"It was of his own choosing," Lya explained.  "We were able to repair the damage to his body very easily.  We also fixed the connections in his mind to prevent any further incidents while still preserving the original intent of his protections.  We could not, however, return him to his adult form.  When we explained our problem, he chose... this."

*      *      *

"I'd really like for you to reconsider, Jack," George sighed.  "The Maidieran team will be a valuable addition to the Pegasus expedition, but the Stargate program needs an experienced eye overseeing all of Earth's offworld operations."

The younger general stared down at his clasped hands for a long moment before looking back up.  "I can't leave Colorado, George.  Sara's here, the Stargate's here... Daniel belongs here.  I can't move out to D.C. and leave any of that behind, although Daniel would go with me no matter what."

"Daniel would be safer in Washington than out here," the Texan tried again, using up his last appeal.  "The NID still hasn't found the one Sara called 'Shorty', and I don't think they're going to—not alive anyway.  His symbiote has probably already changed hosts, and—"

"The answer's still 'no'," Jack answered.  "Sam's decided to head up that project at Area 52, so she's only a few hours away.  Teal'c's gone to Dakara, but all it takes is a spin of the 'Gate to get him back... and the State of Colorado still hasn't finished all the red tape on Danny's adoption.  My life is here, George.  If you want somebody to take your spot at the Pentagon, go bug Hank Landry, not me."

George smiled.  "I thought you'd say that, so I'll leave you be.  Oh, before I go—"

"Yeah?"

"There's a matter of a certain young colonel by the name of Cameron Mitchell... I believe you promised him a spot on SG-1 if he recovered from his injuries?"  He glanced over his shoulder as he stepped out of the office.

Jack's expression of consternation was priceless.  "Crap."

*      *      *

"Sara!  It's great to see you out and about, dear," Jean Autry smiled warmly.  "You're lucky you weren't more seriously injured."

Sara smiled, squeezing Daniel's hand.  "Well, that'll teach me to try to run up a staircase that quickly," she joked, the cover story for her concussion slipping easily from her lips.  "I never want to do that again!"

"So, this is the infamous Jack O'Neill?"

"Oh, come off it," Jack grinned.  "I remember you from Parent-Teacher meetings."

"Meeting.  Singular, not plural, Jack," Sara corrected.  "You went to only one."

"Whatever," he replied impishly.  "Nice ta meet'cha again, Ms. Autry."

She waved off the formal title.  "Jean, please... seein' as how you've asked my best friend to move in with you."  She grinned.  "And you must be Danny."

The five year-old looked up from the brightly-colored tablecloth.  "Hello, Ms. Autry," he beamed.  "Jack?  Can we adopt an Angel?"

"It's the last day for it," Jean urged.

"Weeee-ell," Jack began, dragging the word out.

"Please?" Daniel begged.

"Sure, kiddo," the general laughed.  "Do you want a boy angel or a girl angel?"

The little boy seemed to have difficulty deciding, so Sara quickly suggested a little girl.  Daniel seemed happy with the choice and couldn't wait to start picking out gifts.

"Good choice," Jack whispered conspiratorially.  "'Cause we're already adopting a little boy angel."

Sara couldn't agree more.

*      *      *

Danny couldn't believe how much fun Christmas shopping could be for someone he'd never met.  Actually, he couldn't believe how much fun Christmas shopping was for anyone.  He didn't really know what it was like with his real parents, but he was pretty sure they'd never spent an hour perusing a specialty hat store to find just the perfect cap to give to Teal'c.  He couldn't remember much about Egypt, but he knew for sure they didn't have such a pretty selection of gloves and scarves there as the ones he'd picked out all by himself to give to Sam.

They were on their way back to the Angel Tree booth to turn in their completed list when Danny saw just one more thing he had to have.

"Please, Jack?"

"Really?" his new dad asked, looking surprised.

"Uh-huh."

Sara looked down at him, and he really liked how pretty she looked when she smiled like that.  "Go right ahead, Jack.  I'll take care of the Angel."

Jack must have thought that was okay, so Danny let go of Sara's hand and blew her a kiss like she'd shown him how to do.  Then he turned around and bounced back the other way, holding onto Jack's hand tightly.

He hated having to stand still, but stand still they did until it was his turn.  Waving at Jack, Danny hopped across the carpeted floor and held out his arms so he could be lifted more easily.

"Ho ho ho!  Have you been a good little boy this year?" Santa asked once he was settled on his lap.

He nodded vigorously, then remembered Jack's instructions and replied, "Yes, sir!"

"Good!  Now, what to you want for Christmas this year?"

Danny looked back toward the entrance to Santa's area to see Sara had finished up with the Angel Tree and now stood with her arm around Jack's waist, and his around her shoulders.  "I don't remember much about my real mommy and daddy," he began, "But when they died, all I wanted was to have them back.  Now I have a new mommy and daddy for Christmas."  Impulsively, he kissed Santa on the cheek.  "Thanks, Santa... but I have all I want!"

Epilogue

"Santa came!  Santa came!  Jack, Sara, wake up!"

Jack glared at the alarm clock's display.  "Danny, it's five in the morning."

"That's afternoon already in Egypt!" the little boy gasped, practically bouncing in place.

"Told you not to teach him about time zones," Sara muttered, rolling over, then sitting up and swinging her legs over the edge of the bed.  "Just give us a minute or two, Danny... we old folks don't move as fast as you do."

"You're just silly," Daniel declared, flashing them a brilliant smile before disappearing back out of the room.

"Oi," Jack groaned.  "Told you not to teach him about Santa Claus."

"Touché," Sara laughed, leaning over to give him a quick kiss.  "All right, general, let's go see what the fat man brought."

"As if we don't already know."

"Fine.  Let's go see how tickled Danny is to see what the fat man brought!"

Jack grinned.  "Now you're talking!  Where's my camera?"

Sara waggled her finger at him.  "Nope, I've got the photo-taking duties, thank you.  You barely know how to turn the thing on as it is."

"Busted."  Yawning and making sure all his joints stayed in place when he stretched, Jack stood up from the bed and shuffled down to the living room.  He'd expected Daniel to fly into the pile of brightly-colored presents as soon as the adults sat down, since that's what Charlie had always done, but was surprised when Daniel dug under the tree to extract two messily-taped packages.

"These are for you," he declared, handing one gift to each of his "parents", then putting his hands on his hips in a very-grown-up-Daniel-like gesture.  "Well, open them!"

Sharing surprised but pleased looks, Jack and Sara began slowly peeling back each strip of tape, not surprised in the least when Daniel giggled at their pace.  Finally, Jack had his last piece detached and slid the box out of the wrapping paper.

"Will it explode?" he asked, shaking the box carefully.

"No!" Daniel grinned.

"Will it try to walk off if I put it down?" Sara joined in, enjoying the game.

"Nope!"

"Will it—"

"Jaaa-ack!" the little boy whined.  Chuckling, Jack slipped his finger under the lid and lifted it off to reveal his gift.

Sometime in the last week and a half, Daniel had gotten someone to carve a flat piece of wood into the shape of a boy Angel Tree figure.  The features of the angel had been wood-burned into the surface, along with his name and the date the judge signed the adoption papers.  Then the whole thing was varnished, polished, and given a metal bracket so it could be hung on the wall.  The O'Neill name had never looked so good as it did following "Daniel".

Sara gasped at her own copy of the same.  "It's beautiful."

"You can hang 'em in your offices," Daniel smiled shyly, looking down at his feet as he twisted back and forth.

Jack pounced, scooping him up and tossing him in the air.  Daniel shrieked with delight as he came back down, wrapped in the biggest bear hug Jack could manage without cutting off the boy's circulation.  "It's perfect, kiddo," he grinned, letting him go only so Sara could enfold him in a hug of her own.

Then he was off like a miniature tornado, gleefully attacking the presents Santa had brought him.  Despite his obvious delight in opening each gift, he carefully peeled back the tape and unfolded the creases, just as the adults had done with their own gifts, laying each sheet of paper aside before turning his attention to the box.  Jack and Sara exchanged smiles, seeing a future archaeologist at work.

When the last package was opened, Daniel bounded back across the room and flung himself at Jack and Sara, wrapping an arm around the neck of each and hugging again.  "This is the best Christmas ever."

"It's the only Christmas ever," Jack reminded him.  "I didn't think you remembered any of your other ones."

"Nope," Daniel agreed.  "But it's still the best Christmas ever!"

"Well, if you want me to put together your new desk," Sara began, "you better go get my tool box from the pantry."

"Oh, you're going to put it together?" Jack questioned.

"I'll let you start it, Jack," she answered.  "Then after you get frustrated when part A and part B don't go together like you think they should, I'll finish it."

Daniel giggled.  "Funny," Jack sighed.  "All right, Danny, go get that tool box."

When he vanished around the corner into the kitchen, Jack held up five fingers, counting down the seconds.  When he had only one finger remaining up, a squeal was heard from the kitchen.  "There's another present in the pantry!"

"Can you bring it in here?" Sara asked.

"It's kinda heavy," came the answer.  "And lopsided!"  He staggered back around the partition, arms wrapped around the base of the box.

"Put it on the coffee table and open it," Jack suggested.

The little boy slid the package carefully onto the surface of the table, then reached for the ribbon holding the box shut.  Taking the lid off, he stared with wide eyes at the dark green eyes staring back at him.

"A kitten!" he squealed, lifting the sleepy feline out of the box and cradling it to his chest.

"Shoulda gotten a dog," Jack sighed, earning him a thump on the arm and a look from Sara.

"You claim to have been Doctor Jackson's best friend, but you don't recognize a cat person when you see one?" she teased.  "She's all yours, Danny... she doesn't even have a name until you pick one for her."

Daniel beamed, cuddling the kitten.  "Her fur is so pretty," he said softly.  "Long and black and a little curly.  Can I name her Sha're?  That's a pretty name, isn't it?"

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